


Fast West

by Fullmetalcarer



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: M/M, Sort Of, Steampunk, Western
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2017-12-21
Packaged: 2019-02-15 11:38:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13030269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fullmetalcarer/pseuds/Fullmetalcarer
Summary: Logan leant on the bar waiting for Lehnsherr. It wasn't like him to be late. Maybe he was having trouble finding someone to look after Nina. He was fussy about who he'd leave her with. Logan didn't blame him. Nina was the most precious thing in the world as far as Lehnsherr was concerned and damned if Logan didn't agree with him.





	Fast West

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bocje_ce_ustu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bocje_ce_ustu/gifts).



Logan leant on the bar waiting for Lehnsherr. It wasn't like him to be late. Maybe he was having trouble finding someone to look after Nina. He was fussy about who he'd leave her with. Logan didn't blame him. Nina was the most precious thing in the world as far as Lehnsherr was concerned and damned if Logan didn't agree with him.

He knocked back his whisky and gestured to the barkeep for another. It was good stuff. Better than he was used to. Expensive, but worth it. Only to be expected in an swanky place like this. Gilding, red velvet, no sawdust on this floor, no siree, proper stage for the singers and dancers, proper band too, not some drunk smashing away at a broke piano. Then there was the entertainment. Well, wasn't that some high class show. A girl and a boy were up on stage, dancing. It was kinda like that French can can, kinda like ballet - Yeah, Logan had seen a ballet once. Wanna make something of it? - and kinda like them circus acrobatics.

The girl was curvy and peachy, with her long blonde hair all pinned up, and wearing a tight fitting, blue velvet dress that didn't leave much to the imagination. The boy was much the same height as the girl, pale skinned, dark haired, blue eyed and red lipped. He was dressed in a white shirt and tight blue pants and a tight blue waistcoat. They were both pretty as pictures, the two of 'em, and, damn, could they dance. They made it look real easy and elegant, although they were both leaping like deer and the boy was lifting the girl and twirling her like she weighed nothing. When they were done and were bowing (the boy) and curtsying (the girl), their chests heaved and sweat gilded their faces. A droplet slid down the boy's neck, into the hollow of his throat and then disappeared beneath his collar. The boy noticed Logan noticing and gave him a filthy smile and a cheeky wink. Logan couldn't help smiling back at the cocky little bastard.

The boy jumped off the stage and the girl leapt down into his arms. They wandered among the applauding crowd, graciously accepting praise and discreetly accepting money. There was a whole heap of flirting by both of 'em and the boy didn't just flirt with the women. Logan was old enough to remember when it was against the law for a man to fuck a man. He remembered when, even after the law changed, you had to be real careful how you acted if you were that kinda fella. Even nowadays, there were plenty who thought it was agin God's law and a man still couldn't marry a man, nor a woman a woman neither. Well, the world wasn't perfect and likely never would be, people being people and all, but it was getting better; too slowly according to Lehnsherr, but then he was an impatient bastard.

The boy headed towards the bar, talking and smiling and flirting with the customers on his way. He halted at Logan's side. He was short. From a distance he'd looked in his teens. Up close he was obviously in his mid-twenties, maybe older. Blue eyes gazed up at Logan through dark lashes.

"You look like you want to buy me a drink."

And wasn't that voice a surprise. Sounded like Queen Victoria herself. Logan knew what she sounded like because he'd heard a recording on one of they wax cylinder things.

"Do I now?"

The young man nodded.

"Yes, darling, you do. You're fighting it, but I think the urge to spend money on me is winning."

Logan laughed and changed it into a snort.

"And what if I told you to go fuck yourself?"

The young man opened those killer eyes wide.

"I would be shocked and horrified, being the sweet, innocent flower that I am."

Logan laughed again and didn't try to hide it this time. Hellfire, but the kid was tempting. Sassy as fuck and pretty as Lucifer (except for that nose). However, there were two, no three, very important reasons why Logan couldn't give in to temptation.

"Sweet, innocent flower my ass. Beat it, kid, I'm here to meet someone."

"Maybe I'm the someone you're here to meet?"

The young un put his hand atop Logan's. His palm was warm and his fingers were short but broad.

"Fate, Destiny, call it what you will, but some Divine Power has brought us together."

He fluttered his eyelashes.

"You are one persistent little shit, I'll give you that, but you need to vamoose, kid."

The young man pouted.

"I'd advise you to do as my partner suggests," said a steely voice.

There was reason number one. Lehnsherr. It had started a while after they'd teamed up. They'd both wanted the same thing and been willing to work together to get it, despite their mutual suspicion and dislike. Suspicion had changed to a degree of trust as each had learnt the other could be relied on. Dislike had turned to grudging admiration for each other's skill and experience. They were both attracted to men. They were both attractive men. It would have been strange if they hadn't fucked.

And there'd been Nina. Reason number two. Logan had liked her from the off. A smart, sweet kid, with a temper like her father's when she was roused and a deep joy in the world that Lehnsherr had lost a long time ago. She'd treated Logan like a favourite uncle pretty much from the first time they'd met. Logan had resisted at first, but Nina was the unstoppable force that had overwhelmed his immovable object. She was the reason it had gotten serious between Lehnsherr and him. After Logan had damn near got himself killed protecting her, everything had changed. No one had said anything of course, but they both knew this wasn't just business - with some hellacious fine fucking on the side - anymore. They were a family and they'd been one for three years now.

'Well, I must have done something positively saintly in a previous life to be blessed by the presence of two such fine gentlemen."

That la-di-da voice dragged him back to the present. The kid was eyeing Erik like a starving man looking at fried chicken. Logan couldn't blame him. Lehnsherr was awful easy on the eyes. He was all duded up in his fancy black outfit too, with the black leather waistcoat and his black hat with the silver band. Oh, and the pearl handled pistols. Logan preferred knives. More personal.

"Delightful as it is to make your aquaintence, I must insist you leave. My partner," at this point Lehnsherr put his hand possessively on Logan's shoulder, "and I are meeting someone on private business and you would be distinctly de trop."

That was reason number three. The meeting. Pity they couldn't put it off because the combination of the young man's flirting, Lehnsherr's possessiveness and all that fancy talk was getting Logan as horny as hell. Nothing like fancy talk to get him going. Goddammit, what he and Lehnsherr could be doing right now. Logan tried hard not to think about adding the young man to the picture.

"Oh, don't be like that, darling. I'm sure I'd be much more fun than whoever it is you're supposed to be meeting."

I bet you would, thought Logan.

Lehnsherr's grasp on his shoulder tightened. He flicked back his fancy black jacket and rested long, elegant fingers on the mother-of-pearl handle of his gun.

"My partner's asked you to leave, more than once I'd guess, and I've asked you to leave twice. Leave. Now."

Shit. Goddamn Lehnsherr's temper. He was a jealous son-of-a-bitch too.

The young man didn't leave. He didn't look scared either. He looked . . . intent. Logan had a gut feeling everything was not as it seemed.

"No need for threats. As you can see, I'm not carrying a weapon."

His voice was sweet as honey. Instincts that had kept Logan alive for more than forty years kicked in and he slid his hand under his dusty leather coat, reaching for his knives.

"Charles? What's going on? Are these guys bothering you?"

The girl had come up behind them. Neither Logan nor Erik had noticed her. Shit, shit, shit. She shouldn't have been able to sneak up on them like that. And, fuck, she was wearing pistols. Not the ornamental kind some women wore like jewellery. No, she was wearing them at the right height for a quick draw and the tips of her fingers were brushing the grips.

"Oh no, Raven. If anything, it's the other way round. I'm bothering them."

Neither the young man, Charles, nor the young woman, Raven, looked at each other. Charles was watching him. Raven was watching Erik. Logan got a good grip on his knives. Erik casually, oh so casually, took his hand from Logan's shoulder and rested it on the butt of his other gun. Charles shifted his stance a fraction. His eyes were bright with something Logan recognised. Everything was going to go south any moment now.

Then Charles laughed. He sounded genuinely amused.

"I'm so sorry. It really is too bad of me. We're the people you're here to meet. Charles and Raven Smith at your service. You must be Mr Eisenhardt and Mr, er, Wolverine."

Logan and Erik exchanged glances. Those were the code names. But the guy they were supposed to be meeting was bald and had a beard and was at least thirty-five according to his "Wanted" poster. And the woman was a redhead with an eye-patch and scarring on her left cheek. Could these two beauties be them?

"Mr and Mrs Smith. Mr. And. Mrs. Smith."

Blondie and pretty boy smirked at each other like eight year olds in on a secret no one else knew. They looked just like Nina when she was trying to hide something from her two dads.

Erik was pissed but he let go of his guns. He had an incredible memory for faces - hunting people down did that for you - so if he recognised this pair Logan wasn't going to argue.

"Son of a bitch," Logan muttered.

"Yes, I'm afraid my mother was rather an unpleasant person," said Charles.

"Cut the crap, Charles," said Raven.

She moved her fingers away from her pistols a tad.

"Let's get down to business. Jamie, we need the back room and a bottle of your best."

The barkeep tossed her a bottle of whisky, which she caught one handed. He threw a key to Charles, who fumbled the catch, dropping it at Logan's feet. Logan stooped to pick it up. He went to hand the key to Charles.

"Why thank you, kind sir. You hold on to it though, I'm such a butterfingers."

Logan grinned. The cunning little bastard. Raven only had one hand free so Charles was evening up the odds. Logan pointedly put the key in his pocket. Look, Charlie boy, both hands free. Charles' charming smile broadened like this was all some big joke to him.

"For fuck's sake," murmured Raven and led the way to the back room.

Charles made a shocked face.

"My apologies for Raven's language. Sometimes I despair of her ever achieving a ladylike disposition."

"Don't worry, Chuck, we're used to a little rough language."

"It's so unbecoming in a lady though."

"As unbecoming as wearing a pair of revolvers?" said Erik in the pleasant tone that meant trouble.

"Oh, Raven wears and handles her guns most becomingly. Her firearms' etiquette is immaculate. Such a pity good manners are a stranger to her in all other areas of life."

"If you've finished talking about me maybe one of you jerks would unlock the door," said Raven, giving Charles the sort of look Logan was used to getting from Erik.

Logan went to unlock the door, which put his back to Raven and Charles. Both of 'em had dropped a little way behind Erik. Those fuckers.

"After you, Mr and Mrs Smith," said Erik.

You could have called his smile charming; if you liked sharks.

Charles and Raven exchanged glances and giggled. Logan didn't see what was so funny. Erik being exaggeratedly polite? Him using their titles and last name? What?

"No, after you, Mr Eisenhardt. You're guests in our place of work. It would be terribly rude of us to go first."

"Jesus Christ," snapped Raven, "At this rate we're all gonna die of old age, not lead nor steel. Look, we're all being cautious and that's reasonable considering, but if we were gonna kill each other there'd be easier and less risky ways of doing it, so let's sit down and talk about what we've come here to talk about and stop all this bullshit."

"The lady's right," said Logan.

Erik and Charles eyed each other, both smiling but in different ways. Some kind of ectoplasmic communication must have been going on because they nodded in unison and entered the room. Erik went first. Raven rolled her eyes and stomped in after them, Logan following. Charles was apologising to Erik for Raven's blasphemy.

"I'm Jewish. I don't care."

"Jewish. How fascinating. I've always been interested in Judaism. The similarities with Christianity. The differences. I wonder if you could enlighten me as to - "

"Shut the fuck up and sit the fuck down."

Charles gave Raven an accusing look but did as he was told. He got four glasses from a brass stand in the middle of the mahogany table and Raven poured the whisky like she'd been born behind a bar.

"A toast to our joint enterprise," said Charles.

Raven downed hers in one. Logan did the same. Ah, smooth as an angel's ass. Erik didn't touch his. Charles took a sip of whisky, made a face, and muttered something about gin and tonic.

"Time to put our cards on the table, gentlemen," said Raven. "So, you want to take down The Black King?"

**Three years later**

"Aunty Raven, Aunty Raven!"

Nina hurtled across the yard and threw herself into Raven's arms. Raven picked her up and twirled her around.

"Oof! You are getting so strong young lady. You damn near knocked me over."

Charles tutted and waved his cane at Raven.

"Please mind your language in front of Nina."

Raven laughed.

"Are you telling me she doesn't hear a whole heap worse from Logan?"

"Hey, watch it Darkholme. I keep my lips zipped around my little girl," growled Logan.

"I'm not a little girl," declared Nina indignantly. "I'm nine and three quarter years old. I'm almost a grown-up."

"Sorry, Nina," said Logan with a grin.

Raven settled Nina on her hip and strode into the house. Delicious smells filled the air. She'd hoped Erik was cooking. She'd prayed her brother wasn't. Erik looked up as she wandered into the kitchen. He smiled and waved a spoon at her.

"I'd give you a proper welcome, but, as you can see, I've got my hands full at the moment."

"Me too," said Raven, bouncing Nina on her hip. Tarnation but the kid was getting heavy.

"I'm not a baby, Aunty Raven. Please put me down," said Nina with great dignity.

Raven threw her up in the air, enjoying the squealing this provoked, then set her gently on the floor. Nina laughed up at her. Raven had never wanted kids of her own, but if there was a guarantee they'd turn out like Erik's baby girl, she could be tempted.

"Pops, Pops! Raven threw me right up in the air!"

Logan was Pops, Charles was Daddy and Erik was Papa.

"Did she now? I bet she didn't throw you this high."

Logan swept her up and hurled her heavenwards. Good thing the ceilings were high. Nina shrieked with joy.

"Must you attempt to concuss our daughter and drive her demented with excitement just before dinner?"

Charles limped into the kitchen wearing his finest disappointed face.

"Daddy's right. Go wash your hands," said Logan, putting her down.

Nina pouted but did as she was told. Logan grabbed Charles and pulled him into his strong embrace. Charles squeaked but looked thoroughly smug and made no attempt to escape.

"Do you have to do that in front of me? Being your sister is bad enough without having to see that kind of thing."

Charles smirked and gave Logan an absolutely filthy kiss.

"Papa, Pops and Daddy are kissing again," commented Nina. She sounded just like Charles at his disapproving best.

"Are they? Disgraceful. I'll soon put a stop to that."

Erik vaulted over the kitchen counter - show off - wrapped his arms round Logan and Charles and briskly kissed them.

"No, Papa, no! You were supposed to stop them, not join in."

"I must have misunderstood. Perhaps you can show me how to do it?"

Nina marched over, inveigled herself into the middle of the three men, was gently lifted up to head height and kissed each of them on both cheeks. All four looked meaningfully at Raven. She sighed. No help for it. She joined her brother and her two brothers-in-laws and her neice. Legally they were no such thing, but Charles and Erik and Logan were the most married folks she'd ever met. Besides, none of them had ever been much for the law.

Nina kissed her aunty's cheeks.

They stood in silence for a moment.

Raven thought back to their first meeting. How suspicious they'd been of each other. Erik and Logan had thought she and Charles were man and wife. She still teased them about it.

All that plotting and planning to take Shaw down. Sebastian Shaw. Slum landlord. The man who'd been responsible for the deaths of Erik's parents. The courts would have found him innocent of having those tenements burned down for the insurance money except for a teenaged Erik doing the cops' jobs for 'em and finding incontrovertible evidence of Shaw's guilt. Shaw had fled west after "escaping" from the laxest custody on god's good green earth. Erik had followed. He'd got himself a kid along the way. A kid her momma couldn't look after. Raven still didn't know the ins and outs of that. Most she knew was Magda was still alive and Erik didn't have a bad word to say about her. It had taken Erik seven long years to track Shaw down. 

Logan had been in on the Shaw scheme because of a former lover, Kayla Silverfox. Well, at first it had been coz of her. Later it had been as much for Erik as Kayla. She'd been part of the Blackfoot Confederacy. Still was last anyone had heard. She'd survived but a whole lot of her people hadn't and Shaw had played a major part in that.

As for her and Charles, they'd been outlaws for hire. Happy to work for anyone who'd pay. Happy to commit fraud, larceny and even violence. That's if their marks matched Charles' strict criteria for acceptable targets. Charles would only do bad things to bad people, and he could be kinda squeamish about that. The jobs they'd passed up because of Charles' morals. Told you what kinda man Shaw was that her idealistic brother had been only too happy to take him down.

It had been a real close run thing and real messy too. Shaw had been smarter than they'd realised and their insider had turned out to be a traitor to them, not Shaw. If Raven ever caught up with Emma Frost it wouldn't be pretty and neither would Frost once she'd finished with her. They'd won out in the end but Logan had lost an eye, Erik had gained some dandy new scars to go with the ones he already had and Charles' leg would pain him to the end of his days. Raven had got off the lightest.

"Penny for them?" said Charles.

Raven looked around the cozy room and considered the four people she loved most in the world.

"Just thinking how lucky we are."

Nina patted her cheek, Charles looked a little misty and Logan cleared his throat. Even Erik looked less like a constipated asshole than he usually did.

"So help me if anyone but Nina kisses me they're going to get a knee in the balls."

"Raven!"

"Not in front of Nina."

"Verdammt! The stew is burning."

”Erik!"

"Mind your language, Lehnsherr."

"What does "verdammed" mean, Papa?"

And there was a chaos of stew saving and table laying and eating and drinking and laughing and Nina tickling and "ew" kissing and love.


End file.
